


The Bones of What You Believe

by InfiniteAlexisA



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Peter, BAMF Stiles, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, M/M, Magic, Orgy, Pack Bonding, Pack Family, Pack Orgies, Peter redemption arc, Polyamorous Pack, Spark!Stiles, pack orgy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 11:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10718091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteAlexisA/pseuds/InfiniteAlexisA
Summary: Beacon Hills is claimed and the pack that protected it had forged their bonds in blood





	The Bones of What You Believe

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by: Strong Hand- Chvrches
> 
> I had actually intended to have this be a chapter fic with like a fun chapter for each line of the song but I really like the flow of it this way, in my opinion it's best if you listen to the song first or along with it so you can get the same flow that I felt for the story.

**_Why don't you tell me what do you need- There is a blank page for you-_ **

Stiles was and wasn’t very good with words. They were often his friend, more often than that they were his weapon, but occasionally they left him silent. It was terrifying, but never lasted long because when his words failed him, Peter never failed to show up. Translating his facial expressions and ribbing him mercilessly, until Stiles couldn’t help but snap back with a witty retort. 

There was something new about Peter, he was different, that much was obvious. He wasn’t the deranged man Stiles had met a few years ago. He had mellowed out in death, something about the afterlife had cleared his head and grounded him. He was almost back to his former self, although he was still a shadow of the man he was before the fire. 

Derek was still worried, he wanted to believe his uncle’s small smiles and soft eyes but it was hard. Peter had killed Laura and turned Scott, and Derek truly believed he had single handedly started the events that were plaguing Beacon Hills today. 

Stiles’ didn’t see it that way and he said as much during the pack meeting, though it was a bit early to be calling them pack. Stiles felt Gerard was to blame, for all of it, before the revenge, and the fire, and Kate. Gerard had set the wheels in motion by being the most evil son of a bitch to ever be born. Period.  At Scott’s glare Stiles continued on, never one to back down, and told his take on Peter Hale.

Which really boiled down to a single sentence. The man had been crazy but Stiles really believed that Peter had found something to cling to in family, and pack. However unstable they might be Peter was finding some sort of solace in them and Stiles would never begrudge a man who had found peace. 

**_Give me the bones of what you believe- Maybe they'll save you- From me-_ **

When you stripped them down to bare bones they were scared. They were judgmental and brash, clashing wildly and loudly with one another in a cacophony of fear that left them all breathless and frustrated. Those were the worst days. 

The supernatural threats that plagued them were constant and invisible, the town felt haunted, it felt burdened with the weight of it’s own well being, the people were scared, the pack was tired, but they never stopped fighting. 

Stiles and Lydia grew closer and closer every day, every piece of lore passed between them was glue added to their bond. 

Derek fell into line under Scott much more naturally than anyone had expected. Both him and Peter had bared their necks to the teen, which had been an interesting sight to behold.

Allison was hesitant to get close to the pack, and rightfully so. There was so much pain that came with their lifestyle. Bruises and marks that might never heal fully. The guilt after shooting a man that she knew just because she trusted Scott. The disgust at how easy it was for her to be turned against him.

Isaac wasn’t sure he belonged anymore, with his alpha no longer an alpha and his girlfriend no longer his he felt lost and alone in this thing called pack.

But he stayed, they all did, because no matter the danger and drama they could  _ feel  _ the pack bonds snapping in and out of place, strong and shining but fleeting for the most part. They needed to be stronger, for themselves and for Beacon hills, so they stayed. They decided over and over again that nothing would tear them apart. Every day they committed to the pack, every day they went to the slowly but surely renovating house in the woods and opened their hearts and minds to each other. In that they started to find their roles, the best and most effective way for them to strengthen the pack. 

**_Will I be the strong hand keeping you safe- Or will I break you- In half_ **

Peter had been an honest to god psychopath when they first met. Stiles had seen it in his eyes that night in the hospital. The disinterested mask, the cold determination behind the casual “You must be Stiles.” The scars and the unkempt hair added to his totally unstable vibe and Stiles had taken a moment to take it all in before trying to bolt. 

Years later and Peter still got that look in his eye occasionally but it was usually at an enemy, and Stiles’ almost never disapproved. Almost.

Until recently, their relationship had been defined by life or death situations. Lines painted in the sand with bold black ink titles labeling them GOOD and BAD. Peter had been deranged, but Stiles had continued to notice that the man seemed to have found his peace in death. He was saner, still a ruthless son of a bitch, but definitely more of a team player. 

Peter took notice of Stiles as well, he knew things about the young man that the others didn’t notice. He knew Stiles would never admit it to himself but he was smarter than Lydia. His mind was sharper, he processed things faster, remembered more, he was gifted, and he had recently gotten cozy with Dr. Deaton. Had recently learned that he was a spark.  He had a new found confidence that made him delightfully reckless in the face of danger. 

Everything he did was for the good of the pack, but he was definitely more chaotic neutral than lawful good. He would come for their enemy with all that he had, and that was something Peter could stand behind. Peter saw Stiles for what he was, a white hot ball of magic and passion. His loyalty was indisputable, his drive animalistic, and his heart was softer than he was willing to realize. 

**_And you will never be under my thumb-  But you are not your- Own man_ **

In the beginning Peter had thought it was funny, the way that he saved them, over and over again, with little to no regard for his own life. Peter helped when Stiles came to him, frustrated and pissed to all hell that he needed to come to Peter at all. It delighted the older man, to have this obvious power over Stiles and the rest of the pack. It gave him stability, to know that however they felt about him, he was essential to the survival of the pack. 

Peter made sure to keep his thoughts about Scott’s pack of adolescent morons to himself when they were together. Stiles wouldn’t want to hear Peter’s opinion on his personal life. 

Not that he needed to tell Stiles, the boy could probably tell. He was extremely adept at reading people, knowing things he had no business knowing about a person's life and feelings. Peter was sure Stiles knew how he truly felt about the pack, about his blatant denial of the stupid warm feeling he gets every time he see’s his nephew. About how easy it was for him to bow his head and bare his neck to Scott. How he didn’t really thirst for power, not all the time and not anymore. 

No one knew, Peter kept it hidden from them, he kept his heartbeat steady and his eyes forward. He sneered and teased to the point of being mean, gave violent suggestions that we almost not a joke. He was positive that no one knew, but if anyone was going to know, that anyone would be Stiles.

**_See the way we all run, when we know it all off by heart- Playing down, waiting all out- Will we win or lose it this time?_ **

There always scrambling, Stiles couldn’t help but notice over the year. They were always running around and freaking out, all of them, all the goddamn time, all of them except for Peter. 

Peter watches, he waits. Makes sure he’s not needed before letting it be known that he wouldn’t help even if he was. They resented him at first but over time they noticed the moments of softness that Peter wasn’t able to hide. If they were really in trouble Peter and Stiles would have already been in Peter’s apartment combing through years and years of information. 

Peter wins, it’s in his nature. He’s on the winning side or there are no winners. He does everything in his power to make sure his side is the victor, lucky for the pack, he was on their side. 

**_When the pressure's building for a great white hope, do you give up things that you love?-_ **

Everything is so important now, all of their decisions and all their hopes are loaded with a new type of pressure, an urgency that most of them had never dealt with before. 

See Stiles had learned that his decisions have consequences when his mother was dying in front of him everyday. He knew what it was like to make decisions with this great white hope behind them. He knew what it was like the first time you realized that there is almost nothing you can do to beat the inevitable. Derek regretted his past mistakes with a fire that burned hotter than the one that killed his family. A girl was never just a girl, that sheep is actually a wolf, and the world will always be bleak when you live it alone. 

Derek had given up hope long ago. Scott gave up video games, Isaac gave up smiling, Lydia gave her popularity and Allison gave up love. Stiles gave up his sanity and Peter abandoned his thirst for power. In this loss they find light. In the warmth they find pack. In the pack they find the strength to push forward. 

**_And the pressure's building 'til it takes you whole-_ **

Lydia goes through makeup like a mad woman, the bags under her eyes growing as heavy as the school bags she drags around everyday.

Scott’s grades go down, down, down, but at least he has Isaac to join him in that particular pitfall. 

Allison can never be found with less than three weapons on her, her eyes and fingers twitching madly, daring someone to ask her about it.

Derek never stops working, never stops training, never stops running himself ragged at the thought of losing what he had somehow managed to gain back. 

Stiles gives up on false pretences, and collapses on top of Peter’s couch one night after research, reeking of weed and buzzing with too much adderall. A solidifying moment in a string of events that he hasn’t bothered to look too closely at.

As the eldest and most observant Peter might have feel it worst of all. The pressure that was building up and threatening to swallow them whole. Peter had never been the self sacrificing type yet he found himself on tampon runs almost as often as he was running for his life. He packs away his less savory magik books and gives the rest to Stiles. He cleanses the darkness from his library and hopes the darkness surrounding the pack might follow.  

**_Can you go back on your own word?_ **

Peter was never quite sure of his limits. His status, his place in the pack, was unstable and he would never show it but he was terrified of the floor falling from underneath him. But somewhere in-between holding Lydia’s hair back after bad Chinese and Derek dropping hints that Peter should get back into painting he realized that he had made an unintentional promise to these people. He provided information, was helpful without asking, loved without thinking. He was pack, and pack meant something. Pack meant stability, love, food, warmth, and anything else that might bring tears to your eyes when you’ve been so very alone for far too long. 

**_All of your brothers, they never died, for what you kill for, slowly_ **

Peter had been surrounded by power his entire life. Talia took to her alpha powers with patience and the elegance of a queen. Laura had declared herself ‘alpha material’ before she was seven. Power was in their blood, so why had it eluded Peter through death and back? Peter was coming to terms with the fact that he might never get the power that he truly craved and it made him wonder about the things that he could have. 

His eyes connected with Stiles’ and he couldn’t help but want. 

It wasn’t as foolish as it once was. The young man had grown into his own over the last three years. Twenty years old, fast on his way to a dual degree in Psychology, and spending every other weekend taking up space on Peter’s couch. 

Peter smiled softly to himself at the thought of Stiles, curled up on the couch smelling faintly of marijuana and lightning. Typical, enticing, and entirely to comforting. He was something that Peter could cling to. Something that Peter could own. 

**_How it will grind you- Into the ground-If you should try to- Hold me_ **

Stiles was a wild thing. Magic pulsing and bat flailing he runs into battle after the wolves, the air around him is static and the smile on his face is mainc as he takes in the scene before him. The sharp smell of lightning cuts through the blood and Peter can’t help but take his eye off of his opponent, just for a moment, to watch the boy he had become so enamored with rip apart logic with his magic and humanity and sheer force of will. Stiles’ bat connects with the side of an enemy's skull and lightning shoots down from the heavens like Stiles was Thor himself. Stiles looks shocked down at the charred body, breathing heavily for a moment his pink lips curve into a smile before darting off to flank Scott.  

As Stiles runs past him Peter inhales deeply.

It’s euphoric. 

**_See the way we all run, when we know it all off by heart- Playing down, waiting all out- Will we win or lose it this time?_ **

When the battle is over they come together, first in pairs and then as a pack.  

Stiles stops fighting just as Peter grows tired of waiting, they fall into bed for the first time with the humor and good graces to admit this had been a long time coming.

Lydia and Allison sigh and moan as they curl around each other under Lydia’s Ethan Allen white paisley matelassé coverlet. 

Derek, Isaac, and Scott find a soft melodic harmony in one another, and it’s not long before there a permanent fixture in Derek’s bedroom. Eventually the rest of the pack moves into the Hale mansion in the woods. Before long another inevitability takes place as they come together in the nude after a full moon to lick and touch and feel and bask in the comforting glow of the pack. They mix and mingle over time and as they connect the bonds strengthen, and the pack is born, and reborn, and born again. 

When the battle is over they rest, but only for a moment, and never completely.

They gather evidence, they go over their battles moment by moment and create plan after plan. Their steps are more steady. They walk into battle with heads held high and voices strong. They gain a name. They gain allies. They gain respect. They send a message.

Beacon Hills is claimed and the pack that protected it had forged their bonds in blood. 

**_When the pressure's building for a great white hope, do you give up things that you love?- And the pressure's building 'til it takes you whole- Can you go back on your own word?_ **

Scott finds peace, his territory stable and protected, just in time for him to start his sophmore year of college, a year behind the others with Isaac

Lydia finds enlightenment, her social standing forgotten she works to make people happy, to help them feel safe. No one was surprised when she graduated alongside Stiles and left for Columbia University. 

Allison finds pride, with the Argent reputation forever changed she stands proud as their matriarch, and dares you to challenge her decisions. 

Isaac finds perspective, which manifests itself as flowers at his father's grave. 

Derek finds contentment, in the form of sudden naps in a stray sunbeam and an open door policy wider than his smile. 

Stiles finds stability, with his brain, his pack, his father, and his decision making. 

Peter finds himself. An old charred photo of a once dead man with mirth in his eyes comes to life in the newly reborn Peter Hale.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the oni but Allison lives  
> At the start of the story everyone is 18, Allison is 19. Three years pass, Lydia, Allison, and Stiles are all juniors in college, Scott and Isaac are sophomores because they were held back because of werewolf bullshit. 
> 
> I really hope you all liked it, it's kind of a filler fic so people can know I'm still alive and writing but also because I've actually been working on this dragon fan fiction for like a year now, it's super long and I'm almost done but I'm so busy with school so idk when I'll have time to finish and post it. 
> 
> Please let me know politely about any mistakes I didn't catch, I wrote this alongside editing my criminal justice thesis so...yah know
> 
> My AO3 name is also my twitter and insta name, feel free to follow me on both/either  
> I'm Stilesinatrenchcoat on Tumblr, follow me!
> 
> Please like and comment! Even a smiley/sad face comment is good, feedback helps so much!!


End file.
